An Infant's Tantrum
by Silent Watchman
Summary: A short retelling of the cloverfield incident from the monster's POV. Based on recently released backstory by the movie's creators. This story contains MAJOR spoilers. If you have not seen the movie, you have been warned.


Disclaimer: I do not own cloverfield

Taste was the first sensation that returned as the infant awoke; foreign tastes in the water current that instinct could not identify. Its kind had never tasted anything like this in their species memory and there was no preprogrammed reaction in the infant's genes to such a taste. Foul, oily, and bitter; the taste in the water was unpleasant and…wrong.

Full conciousness returned to the infant. It had become entrapped almost immediately after being born, it had no idea how long it was there, and it had not yet gained enough experience to show confidence in itself. Where was the infant's mother? Why wasn't she helping it to escape its tomb?

Panic began to enter the infant's mind and it heaved free of its muddy and rocky restraints, shaking the earth around it in the process. As the infant rose to the surface it was greeted by a sight it could not have been prepared for. The landscape was alien and strange. Huge columns of stone rose into the sky. But worse yet, its mother and more of it's kind where nowhere to be found. The infant _needed_ to be with its parents and its herd! It began frantically swimming in circles, not knowing which direction it should go. The infant had entered panic mode and its movements became erratic.

Something dark and huge came at the infant across the water's surface. The infant's sense of smell was not as strong in the air as under the water, but at this close range it could smell well enough to know this was not its kind. Was it foe, food, a predator, a challenger? It lashed out with its long arms and tore great gashing holes into the dark shape's hard skin. The dark shape rolled over and sank beneath the surface.

The infant floated at the surface for a few moments, too frightened to move lest the challenger return, when another shape charged at it on the water's surface. It was smaller than the other challenger the infant had just killed, much smaller, and strange lights came from its body. The infant could see small things swarming and squealing over the newcomer's skin. Parasites? The infant understood what parasites were, its own crawlers made it itch and were irritating. The infant attacked the newcomer and flung it from the surface with its long arms. The newcomer hit the top of one of the tall columns and burst into flames. The infant had never seen fire before and this startled it even more than its solitude.

The infant swam frantically for the shore, instinct guiding it to find land. Another glowing green shape stood on a rock near the shoreline, its eyes glaring with threat. The infant's kind had only one preprogrammed response to threats and challenges. There was no flight, there was only fight. With a tremendous bellow the infant swiped at the challenger and sent its head flying. The new challenger had the same tough skin as the other two.

The infant dived back into the sea and crossed the short distance to shore. As it pulled itself out of the water, little crawling and honking things stopped in their tracks. With shrill squeals they began running from it. The infant paused for a moment, feeling the ground under its hands and feet and the weight of its own body. This was a new sensation, the infant could feel the power behind its own limbs, yet its body had never felt so impossibly heavy. How was it possible to feel stronger and weaker at the same time?

Instinct had prepared the infant for its semi-aquatic lifestyle, and it quickly found its feet. The fleeing small things also triggered instinctive response. Things that ran away were prey to be caught. The infant snapped up a few of the small running things and speared them with its teeth. The meet didn't taste like any food its ancestors had ever eaten, but it was meat nonetheless. The infant continued to weave its way through the columns, eating the small running things as it went until its belly was full. As the infant brushed against a pair of columns near a clearing, the column shuddered. The infant had no idea it could change its own environment. It pushed even harder and the column fell over, smashing into its twin. Even more of the runners came pouring out of both columns. Some fell from the toppled one and did not move.

The infant was startled at its own strength. Quickly it made its way back to the water. Perhaps its parents would be waiting to guide it. As the infant swam around it encountered another stone obstacle in its path. It too was swarming with small runners. Were there limitless populations of these little things? The infant smashed the stone obstacle with its tail. It knew its parents were not here. Flying things with lights began circling overhead. The infant had seen them before when it had attacked the green challenger. Perhaps the fliers with lights hunted his kind near the water. They certainly seemed to be hunting the infant.

The infant began to panic again. Too many strange things were here and its own kind was not there to comfort the infant in its strange world. New things came rushing to it; small noisy objects that swarmed with little runners. Instead of running from the infant, the little runners came running _at_ it. The little runners began to somehow sting the infant with tiny popping lights. The stings itched and the infant shook its skin, sending a shower of its own crawlers onto the little runners. Other hard, noisy things came rushing at the infant. These ones spat fire at it that instead of merely itching actually began to sting! This was too much for the infant to handle. It began lashing out left and right at the runners, at the hard noisy things, at its own crawlers, at the columns that formed this strange landscape. The infant was spooked, it was panicked, and now it was enraged!

The infant began rampaging though it's new territory, not caring what it destroyed. It was desperate to find its parents and be with its own kind, and the hard stinging things were only making it angrier. In its infantile rage it continued its rampage, losing all track of time. The infant was panicked beyond belief and perhaps even its parents would not be able to calm it at this point.

The infant noticed several fliers perched on the ground; runners entering into it. It had developed a particular hatred and fear of the fliers. The infant approached, ready to smash them before they took off. The fliers scattered and took to the air. The infant followed, ready to swipe them out of the air. In the growing daylight it could see another flier, a massive winged thing, swoop over it. The infant hunkered down and waited for the winged thing to pass. Suddenly a tremendous force knocked the infant off its feet. It clawed at the columns in agony as it felt its skin burn.

The pain didn't last too long. The winged flier did no more damage than the rest of these hateful things that attacked it. The infant noticed one of the smaller buzzing fliers within reach. It lunged forward and snapped its jaws into the flier's side. The flier fluttered down into the clearing the infant had seen earlier. It followed, determined to finish off the flier.

The flier appeared to be dead, and little runners fled from the flier's corpse. One runner lingered. The infant loomed over the little runner and looked about to ensure it would not be attacked again before lowering its head to face the little runner.

The little runner froze in panic and the infant could smell the stink of fear radiating from the runner at this close range. Its instincts screamed at it to kill, and the response that was triggered by the smell of fear was met without hesitation. The infant grabbed the little runner with its teeth and shook the life out of it before spitting the runner back out.

The other runners took off under the trees. They were of no concern to the infant. It could see more fliers coming to meet it over the columns. They too stung the infant and it still felt little more than physical discomfort at those stings.

But the stings still spooked the infant. It continued is rampage, determined to find its parents, its own kind, and to escape these annoying, buzzing, stinging insects.


End file.
